"Quite so," Rogers said crisply. "But while you're thinking about that, don't forget the three men who would be left aboard this ship--think of what would happen to them." He stopped his pacing and shook a finger under the doctor's imposing Van Dyke. "Do you know what would happen to them, Geitz? They'd burn alive--they'd cook--while on earth your scientists would hop around in glee over a few photographs of Mercury!" Geitz sat down heavily, exhausted. "The doc's right, Rogers," Lane interposed. "There's no reason for all four of us dying when it's possible for one to gain freedom. And for God's sake if you're going to do something do it in a hurry! We'll burn before you make up your mind!" "My mind's made up," Rogers retorted. "I'm staying. In case you've forgotten, a captain is the last man to leave his ship. As for you three, fight it out among yourselves. Draw straws--anything. The consequences will be your worry." "I'll stay," murmured Lejeune, lifting his bottle to his lips. "You don't mean that," said the youthful Lane. "You want to go--we all want to go--but it can only be one of us." He fell silent, placing his head in his hands. Rogers resumed his pacing. The ship drifted on, slowly it seemed, ever nearing the solar furnace, falling toward the flames that were eager to dissolve the tiny cruiser locked in an unyielding gravitational pull. "Soon," mused Lejeune. "Soon we'll be too close for the rocket capsule to break free of the sun's drag. Then there will be no doubt as to what will be done. Ha!" "Damnation!" yelled Lane, jerking erect. "How can you be so confounded happy about it all? We're falling into the sun, man--doesn't that have any effect upon you?" Lejeune shrugged. "Perhaps. We are falling into the sun, yes. We'll die, no doubt, so my future is definite. I know what is coming. Soon I shall be but a tiny spark, drifting nowhere in a big sun. Do I regret being a tiny spark? Not when I have my scotch with me." "You're a smart guy," Lane thrust at him. "Maybe you can tell us how to choose the rocket capsule's passenger." "Simple, my friend. The captain won't go--he must stay with the ship. I have no relatives, only my scotch, so I am satisfied. The doctor must stay--he's too fat to get in the capsule. M'sieu Lane, the honor is yours. Au revoir." "Don't be crazy--" "Do not worry about us, my friend. We will find something to do. Perhaps I can interest the doctor and the captain in three-handed bridge. If not, we'll wait. We'll go soon--sssss! Like that." Lane buried his face in his hands again. For a few moments there was an unbroken silence. From the double-insulated hulls emanated a dry hotness that scorched the already blistered air. The hotness increased, rising to a fierce, intolerable degree. It grew, inexorably, pressing against their lungs--